best friends
by The Cheshire Riddler
Summary: Brittany and Kurt's friendship takes off, and then frays. "Could you just not?" Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **This is something that I've been lingering on. Could be read as Brittany/Kurt but it doesn't have to be.

**Warning: **Teenagers: cussing, gossip, and such.

* * *

best friends

* * *

Glee Club is awesome, Brittany decides almost immediately.

There she can dance, pull moves Sue would never even think of letting Brittany do in a Cheerios routine, and sing as loud as she wants because her slightly off-key voice is swallowed up by all the good singers in Glee. Plus Santana and Quinn are there, too, so Brittany's become much closer to them; where before they'd only shared a fellow Cheerios camaraderie, now they've become actual friends from spending so much time together and going through all the crap other kids give them for being in Glee.

For Brittany, though, she loves hanging out with the new people. Social order would never have allowed her to go up to the goth-dressing Asian girl—Gina or Tina, Brittany thinks—and compliment her hair streaks. Brittany's always wanted one, but Sue's got strict restrictions on hair coloring (whenever a Cheerio gets her hair styled or highlighted or even trimmed, Sue is there, no matter how secretive the Cheerio is about it; Brittany knows from experience).

Brittany can go over to the kid in the wheelchair and slap a sticker on the back of his chair that says 'Eat My Dust' and giggle and exchange smiles with him. She still doesn't get that Rachel Berry girl, but she's learned to respect Rachel and her voice in Glee; because while Rachel sure as hell doesn't have social talent, her voice is amazing.

And now there's this new thing with Santana, this casual hook-up thing that Brittany's only had with guys before. It has opened a whole new world of opportunities. Sometimes it even becomes a thing with Puck or Mike, if they're all tipsy at a party. It doesn't happen that often though. Brittany's no nympho and while she dabbles in sleeping with people every once in while, she really likes having a stable relationship with someone for that to happen. She just hasn't had one for a while.

But for some reason the moment that sticks with Brittany, the moment where she had been the happiest to be in Glee, is when she could finally, _finally _go up to Kurt Hummel and say sincerely, "I love your outfits. The scarves? The Gucci? _So_ awesome."

The surprised, pleased smile Kurt gives her in reply is far better than any reaction Brittany had imagined.

* * *

It's unexpected but makes sense, Kurt and Brittany's friendship.

They're both into cute boys and fashion and have a passion for _TLC _and _Bravo_—plus they've kind of bonded over shared outrage at _Project Runway_'s move to _Lifetime_, and other stuff like that. Santana's relaxed about Glee Club, too, so now Brittany can talk to Mercedes or Kurt or the kid in the wheelchair, Artie, and not have to worry about Santana lecturing her on the delicacies of the high school social ladder.

So Brittany and Kurt have just together decided that they'd totally marry Heidi Klum, if she was in their league and unmarried and other impossible things. Brittany's smiling brightly at Kurt, still laughing from his crack about Heidi's husband. "You're funny," Brittany tells him easily.

People call her blunt, but Brittany thinks of it as simply telling the truth. She doesn't hide her opinions or feelings and some people don't like that. Besides, Kurt doesn't seem to mind. For all his sarcastic and snarky comments, Kurt seems to like her; that is, he hasn't given her the cold shoulder for admitting she doesn't really like _RENT_ (Brittany loves musicals, she does, but there's just not enough good dancing in that one for her and she hates how Angel dies), so Brittany figures that's gotta mean something good.

"Thanks," Kurt says, giving her one of his surprise half-smiles. Brittany likes those smiles. He pauses a second and then asks, "Listen, what are you doing Saturday?"

Brittany beams at him.

* * *

Kurt and Brittany both like to dance.

Kurt's got the whole basement to himself at his house and it's perfect for blaring anything from Beyoncé to the Backstreet Boys and breaking out into wild moves. It doesn't take long until Brittany discovers that Kurt's always wanted to take a hip-hop dance class but is afraid of doing it alone. He says he took a class all last year but had stopped when his dad had come too close to finding out about it.

Brittany immediately drags him to her studio and signs them up for a class. It's a stretch, because Brittany's barely got spare time, what with Glee Club, Cheerios, and the two advanced dance classes she takes already. But the grateful, excited smile Kurt gives her once they fill out their applications for the class and turn them in makes it more than worth it. Hip-hop with Kurt quickly becomes Brittany's favorite part of the week. It's every Thursday from six to seven in the evening, sometimes a little bit later. Brittany knows a couple of the other people in the class but sticks close to Kurt. She introduces him to the people she knows and they introduce themselves to the people they don't.

Soon, though, Kurt and Brittany know everyone and everyone knows them. Somehow there's no drama in the class, something Brittany's never ever had before, and it's so easy to let go. Brittany dances better than ever, relaxed with Kurt beside her, who turns out to be a pretty talented dancer himself. Kurt and Brittany—and practically everyone else in their class, too—are in love with their twenty-something male teacher named Jorge. He's pure German and had come over to America three years ago to join a prestigious dance studio. He's stuck in Lima for a couple of months working while he waits for his ankle to heal up.

Kurt takes his dancing very seriously though, and he's noticed that Tina's somewhat lagging. He tells Brittany and they decide to help Tina out. Kurt invites Brittany over, and then they invite Tina over, offer to help her out with her dancing. She's relieved and accepts easily. Brittany's smile is a little strained though, because dancing has been her and Kurt's thing. Mercedes had bluntly told them she isn't into serious dancing when they had asked her to join them.

So they're all three in Kurt's basement, swinging their hips, wearing tight black leotards. _Single Ladies _is booming out of the speakers. Kurt's at the front of their mini-formation, Brittany and Tina behind him. Brittany could do this dance in her sleep, so she lets her mind wander. Her eyes soon follow her mind and begin to wander to, watching Kurt in front of her as he dances. Somehow her eyes fall to his ass and Brittany's startled realize Kurt has a very nice one. She can't believe she hadn't noticed before, since Kurt has no qualms about wearing tight, well-fitted pants. Brittany chalks it up to knowing Kurt was gay before looking at him. He's a bit infamous at their school, so Brittany had heard all the talk before she'd actually known what Kurt looked like.

Then Kurt's dad comes in and Brittany's never met him officially before. And she knows how badly Kurt wants to hide his dance lessons from his dad, so she covers. Kurt throws her a look, because _football_? But then he's going with it, and suddenly everything's going too far too fast, because Kurt's pretending Tina's his girlfriend and…that hurts, for some reason. It stings a bit like rejection, which doesn't make any sense. Kurt's dad disappears up the stairs and Kurt's hand slips away from Tina's waist and they all sigh, relieved, but Brittany's mind is racing.

Brittany kind of wishes quietly to herself that night, tucked away in bed, that Kurt had picked her to be his pretend girlfriend.

Just…because, because, okay?

(She doesn't get it either.)

* * *

Brittany knows she's picked the perfect friend the minute she's allowed inside Kurt's walk-in closet. It's his fortress of solitude and Kurt lets her in after three straight weeks of hanging out. Brittany feels honored and privileged, and then she notices that the clothes around her aren't just clothes.

They're _designer_, _cute_, _sophisticated _clothes and Brittany can't help but squeal. She turns and throws her arms around Kurt.

"You're, like, my best friend ever," Brittany says in awe, her eyes drawn to the D&G coats hanging up in one section of the closet. It's like a guy version of Brittany's closet, only with more designer stuff. And Kurt's got normal brand name things too, but it's all so perfectly blended everything looks professional and pretty.

Kurt hugs her back a little awkwardly, but he hugs her back and that's the point. He laughs at Brittany's words. "I pretty much figured there was no harm in showing you my closet after I saw yours last week." Kurt shrugs, smiling. "Our closets are practically soul mates, anyway."

Brittany grins widely at him and then catches sight of a series of shelves that seem entirely devoted to scarves. "Oh!" She squeaks and claps her hands together in delight. "Dress up, please? Please, Kurt?" She gives him her best pouting face.

Kurt rolls his eyes but there's a smile tugging at his lips as he considers it.

"I guess so," he says after a moment, and then is dragged away by an enthusiastic Brittany.

* * *

Brittany really doesn't know what makes her do it.

Just, she's kind of a physical person? She expresses herself better with her body, and not in a sexual way, but in a body-language way. That has a hard time making sense to even Brittany, and she's the one who thought of it; but the point is in there, somewhere. And the point is that Brittany's very loose with gestures and getting touchy-feely.

She's the kid who hugs her teachers some of the time and isn't afraid to smack a great big kiss on someone's cheek if they tell her good news, no matter who that person is. (The latter had actually been interesting and mildly problematic, seeing as the principal is never, ever a good person to kiss, and when it's McKinley High's principal? Worse, so much worse.) So when Brittany is hanging out with Kurt on a lazy Sunday, Adam Lambert turned up on the stereo, lazing back on Kurt's comfy couch; when Kurt turns away from the TV and a _What Not to Wear _re-run; when Kurt grins at her and says, "You know, we're best friends now. That is…so unexpectedly awesome."

So when Kurt says that, Brittany doesn't think twice about beaming back, leaning forward, and pressing her mouth briefly against Kurt's. She holds it there for a heartbeat and then withdraws. It was a chaste kiss, barely touching, and Brittany doesn't even count it as a kiss since there hadn't been any tongue involved. She brushes it off like it's nothing because it _is _nothing. She watches as Clinton rags on this frumpy housewife's moccasin-monstrosities. It takes a minute for her to realize Kurt hasn't moved.

She turns to face him, confused, because Kurt's sitting there, staring at her. There's a crease between his eyebrows and he looks like he's trying to figure something out.

"Britt," he starts, but doesn't say anything else. It's like he doesn't know how to continue. But Brittany recognizes the tone in his voice. It's the tone her first boyfriend Marcus used to dump her in sixth grade, it's the voice her mom used before she packed her bags and left her and her dad, it's the voice Mr. Schue used when he told them April wasn't coming back, and it's the voice people use to let someone down gently. It takes her a second to connect the dots, but when she does, Brittany shakes her head, smiling a little.

"Kurt, no," Brittany laughs easily. "I don't _like_-you like-you." She thinks that's a little harsh and Kurt's wearing that blank expression he gets when he's attempting to figure out how to react to something, so she adds, "I just like you, you know, as a BFF."

Kurt's still frowning.

It mars his face, makes him look too serious. Brittany wants to rewind, go back to two minutes ago, when Kurt wasn't over thinking and making things complicated. "Then why did you…" he trails off, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Kiss you?" Brittany says bluntly. She half-grins at Kurt. "Because that's what I do when I'm happy. I show it."

Brittany's actually somewhat reigned it in since, back in Kindergarten, she had used to get notes sent home because she was being too free with her kisses, slobbering all over everyone. Brittany's mom had sat her down and explained to her that kisses had to be earned, and the next kiss Brittany had been the next day, to her classmate who had just given her a cookie. Now Brittany's older and wiser and she's got standards for giving out kisses. The peck she had given Kurt is a high honor. Only Santana has gotten one before him; and that kiss with Santana had unwittingly lead to the whole, BFFs-with-benefits deal, and Brittany isn't complaining, but she's still perplexed as to how it that had come about. And it's not like she wants that with Kurt, because while she's straight or bi or something, he's totally gay, so. It wouldn't work.

"Could you just not?" Kurt asks, looking uncomfortable. "I mean, it's not that I'm hetero-phobic or anything." He chuckles uneasily. "I'm just not a very touchy person."

And Brittany gets that, she really does. She's had friends, some of the Cheerios, and even Sue (which, okay, the last one isn't so surprising) tell her to back off when she gets too huggy. But Brittany doesn't get the look on Kurt's face. It's carefully masked, like he's freaking out underneath it, but doesn't want it to show.

Brittany is hurt, because that means he's lying to her, trying to play this down. And, yeah, she doesn't think things through, that's her biggest problem—there's a fancy word for that, Brittany's pretty sure, that her batty ancient English teacher tried to teach them—and Brittany's never regretted something so much until now. Because even if she's only been hanging out with Kurt a few months, she knows that he rarely gives things or people second chances after a freak-out. He usually blocks the cause of the freak-out and pretends it doesn't exist.

"Brittany?" Kurt says, after too long of pause. A bit of genuine concern creeps past his mask and that's, just, too much.

But he doesn't reach a hand out to place it comfortingly on her shoulder. He doesn't scoot closer on the couch and put his arm around her. He maintains his careful distant and there's still a hint of a wrinkle between his eyebrows. Something's changed, something's broken between them, and Brittany freezes because she realizes it's all her fault. She just had to go and overstep her bounds.

The silence falls heavy and awkward between them, unbearable, especially because everything has always been light and fun with them; never awkward. That's what Brittany likes so much about hanging out with Kurt. He gets her and they put up with each other and he's got a bit of a temper, so he's quick to tell her to stop when she's being deliberately obtuse or going too far and she tells him when he's being bitchy for no reason. It's quickly become one of the best friendships Brittany has ever had.

_What Not to Wear _draws to a close on the TV behind them. Kurt clears his throat and adjusts the collar on his shirt, even though it's perfectly placed, as always. "Hey, sorry, but I've got this history paper due," Kurt says lamely, and they both know it's a crappy excuse. Kurt continues anyway and Brittany lets him. "So, would you hate me too much if I said I can't really hang right now?"

Brittany turns her head away, unsure why her eyes feel so dry all of a sudden.

"Yeah," she replies distantly. "Yeah, I'll just, let me just grab my bag."

Mr. Hummel says goodbye to her as she walks out the front door. She feels vaguely guilty, because she's always stopped to smile and say bye to him. But today Kurt hasn't come upstairs with Brittany to walk her out the door. But today Brittany just can't take small talk, even with someone as nice as Mr. Hummel. But today Brittany's holding back tears and she can't stand another second in the Hummel house.

So she sprints to her car, throws her bag in the shotgun seat, and guns it out of the neighborhood. She only follows the speed limit once her house is in sight. She passes on dinner and goes straight to bed, and determinedly doesn't think about how awkward school will be tomorrow. And if her eyes and cheeks feel a little wet, she's not crying. Her mascara just got in her eye or something and they're totally watering.

* * *

In the middle of the night Brittany creeps downstairs in her comfy PJs. They're the ones with the over sized Sesame Street pants and the loose, old Powerpuff Girl shirt. They make her feel about six years old and she likes that, likes being reminded of a time when everything had been so much simpler. Brittany likes wearing her tight, silky pajamas, but she's not in the mood for that tonight. She isn't going barefoot either, her pedicure covered by the ridiculously fluffy bunny slippers she's wearing.

She opens the freezer quietly and takes out a tub of Ben & Jerry's. She grabs a spoon out of a cabinet and settles down at the island in the middle of her huge kitchen. The too-big house is quiet around her. Brittany ignores the feeling of emptiness, all alone in this house with her sleeping dad and her and the memory of her absent mom, and she takes the lid off of the ice cream. She digs her spoon in and avoids thinking about family or friends, or, more importantly and currently, Kurt.

The clock on the oven says it's three-thirty in the morning. Brittany's alarm will ring in two hours.

She doesn't really care; about the time or that what she's doing feels strangely like a post-break up ritual, which is ridiculous. She and Kurt hadn't even been together.

(Brittany determinedly avoids the part of her that wishes they had, because she might be stupid about a lot of things, but not about this.)

* * *

The thing is—Brittany's hung out with Kurt a lot lately.

She just never noticed how much until Monday rolls around and she's avoiding Kurt's locker, "_Could you just not?_" ringing in her ears. Brittany's feelings effect everything she does, so today she's wearing a gray sweater and dark-wash jeans; her only accessories are studs and a simple silver necklace with a 'B' pendant at the end. It's very tame for her, no color or bracelets. The neckline of her sweater barely reveals her collarbone. Her outfit fits her mood perfectly. Brittany's relieved that, since Sue's been fired, there's a lapse in official Cheerio practice for this week and possibly the next, or until they find a new coach. Santana-run practices begin next week, however, so Brittany's determined to enjoy her time out of uniform.

There's another Cheerio in the locker next to her.

Brittany exchanges easy, impersonal banter with the other girl while they both put their backpacks away and primp for the day. The girl is applying blue eyeliner that she lets Brittany borrow, because Brittany had managed to forget to grab her makeup bag when running out the door that morning. All Brittany had had time to do at home was cover up the bags under her eyes from a sleepless night. In exchange Brittany fixes the girl's French braid with ease. It feels like the first time in a long time Brittany's talked to the girl—Jill, Brittany's fairly sure it is, or maybe Jenna—and she's proved right when Jill-Jenna beams at her when the first bell rings, ushering them to first period, and the girl's saying, "I've missed talking to you, Brittany. See you after first!"

Brittany automatically smiles and waves, but watches absently as Jill-Jenna trots off, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Brittany doesn't know when she had started changing, but she's not sure what worries her more: the change itself or the fact she hadn't noticed it until now.

Brittany's more worried about the unavoidable thought that Kurt has maybe been the cause of such a change.

First and second period pass in a tired haze; in each class Brittany sits with her kinda-friends, namely the other pretty girls of varying degrees of bitchiness who don't pay attention and gossip all class. Brittany listens and realizes how out of the loop she's been lately. Then the teacher asks a question with a vague, hopeless look on his face, like he already knows no one's going to answer. "Can anyone tell me who the author of the Federalist papers was?"

But Brittany's hand shoots into the air, practically on its own volition, because she _knows _this.

The teacher's got a surprised expression on his face. Brittany chalks it up to the fact she's never willingly volunteered to answer before. "Brittany?" the teacher asks warily, not hopeful enough and too jaded to blindly accept that this might not be joke.

"There were multiple authors," Brittany says, "One of them was Alexander Hamilton." And whoa, everyone in the class—and this class is mainly compromised of burnouts and druggies and kids who just don't care—turn to stare at Brittany. She's surprised too, and her mouth hangs open for a second before she remembers to shut it.

It takes the teacher a second to overcome his surprise.

When he does, he beams brightly and proudly at Brittany. "Yes!" he exclaims, rubbing his hands together. The worn-down look he's had ever since day two of school has been replaced by the ball of energy he had been day one. "Yes, Brittany's right, Hamilton co-authored the Federalist papers. Now, the other authors were…" he goes off, turning to write some things on the board. Everyone has mostly turned away from Brittany, going back into their own worlds.

The girl next to Brittany is staring at her, however. Brittany looks up and catches her gaze. "What is it?" Brittany asks, biting her lip. She thinks it might be the new glitter eye shadow she'd borrowed from Santana after first period. She'd suspected it might get everywhere but it's too pretty to not to take the risk. "Is it my—"

"What're you doing?" the girl asks incredulously, pointing a neatly manicured finger down.

Brittany looks down slowly. Her notebook, the empty one she brings to all her classes, is open in front of her. She's holding her feathered pink pen in her hand. But instead of doodles, the page in her notebook is a perfect copy of the teacher's scrawl on the board.

Brittany is _paying attention to class_.

She sucks in a deep breath, her eyes going wide. Brittany looks helplessly over at the girl, who's still waiting for an answer. "I don't know," Brittany says quietly. The girl gets dragged into a conversation with the girl next to her so, thankfully, she doesn't press the issue.

The rest of class Brittany restrains herself from writing. It's a struggle she isn't used to and she's sure she likes. She desperately tries to figure out what's happened to affect her so. Kurt would suggest alien abduction—but Brittany's not thinking about Kurt right now. Brittany tries to pay attention to the girls gossiping around her, but instead at the end of class all she's learned, instead of how hooked up with whom at this weekend's party (which Brittany ditched for an 80's cheesy movie marathon at Kurt's) all Brittany has learned is about the Federalist papers. Names likes Jefferson and Hamilton and Washington dance around her head, familiar, but where they had a few minutes ago been vague, now Brittany has a specific historic event to attach to them.

She doesn't know how to feel about that.

* * *

Lunch and Brittany bypasses the table that Kurt, Tina, and Mercedes are sitting at. She gives Tina a distracted smile but avoids looking at the end of the table where Mercedes and Kurt are sitting side-by-side. It hurts a little, because that's normally Brittany's seat. It's somehow become her usual place to sit for half of lunch, Brittany realizes as she goes over to the table where Santana is holding court. Brittany's become so used to hanging out with the less popular members of Glee for the first half of lunch and then going over to the Cheerio table that it's a habit that she has to make a conscious effort to break today.

Brittany is realizing a lot of things today, a lot of things that Brittany doesn't _want _to know. She likes living in her own little world, where the worst thing that could happen is her mascara running or some backstabber spreading a filthy, false rumor about her. Brittany knows how to salvage those situations, anyway, as she's been dealing with them practically her whole life. (This Kurt situation? Brittany is a fish out of the ocean or something, however the saying goes, because she has no idea what to do or what caused it in the first place.)

Brittany takes the seat on Santana's right, the freshmen girl who'd dared to take that seat scooting over without Brittany having to do anything. Brittany beams at the girl and sits down, setting her tray down and listening in on the conversation going on. The table is full of Cheerios and Cheerio-type girls and their jock boyfriends. Puck and Mike are sitting at the end of the table. As Brittany looks over, Mike meets her eyes and she waves at him.

"Brittany," a random Cheerio says. She's a senior but unimportant, as she isn't Captain or even counted among the inner circle of Cheerios. Since Quinn has sort-of left, because of the preggo thing, Santana's stepped in and Brittany's taken Santana's place as first mate or second in command, whatever you wanna call it; it's kind of cool and Brittany likes the power more than she'd thought she would, though mostly she just likes calling rank so she gets the seat in the back of the Cheerio bus or the shortest, puffiest uniform skirt. "Girl, I never see you anymore," the random Cheerio continues. "Were you at Mary's party last night?"

Brittany had blown off that party to hang out with Kurt. She ignores the pang thinking his name sends through her and instead smiles distractedly at the Cheerio. "No, I ditched after I heard who the DJ was gonna be," Brittany answers, and it's the half-truth.

The random Cheerio grimaces sympathetically, "Oh yeah, DJ Grubbs. He kept trying to get all the girls to grind with each other."

Santana chimes in, rolling her eyes, "And he played that Cobra Starship song over and over." She twirls a plastic fork around as she says it. "I left halfway through with a couple other people."

The girl next to Santana nudges her and whispers something that makes Santana smirk proudly and nod casually.

"Oh, well DJ Grubbs kept asking for you, Brittany," a girl across the table says. Her hair is red and straightened to the point where it looks fried. "Halfway through he gave up on hoping you'd show up and started hitting on some freshmen."

DJ Grubbs—no kidding, that is his last name—is some loser college dude who goes around DJ-ing so he can hit on girls. They've nicknamed him DJ "Grabby" because he can be handsy. And it's a well-known fact that he's been after Brittany for some time.

Brittany shudders, not wanting to think about what would've happened had she been there. "Eww," she says. "I'm so sick of that guy. Why is he our go-to party DJ anyway?"

The girls all shrug.

"He's affordable?" the redhead suggests. "I mean, Mary says she basically paid him nothing and he didn't even care."

Santana grimaces. "He's just looking for a chance to go and hit on high school girls," she says dismissively, "Since he's obviously _not _getting any at whatever lame college he's at."

"Is he even in college?" a girl pipes in down the table, and people start in on that debate.

Brittany ignores it, focusing on her lunch. She picks at her grapes but isn't that hungry. She feels self-conscious eating around the other Cheerios, anyway. Last year there had been an unspoken, unofficial competition between the Cheerios to see who could drop the most weight. Brittany can't remember who won, Quinn or Santana, but she'd been out of the running. It's hard for Brittany to compete with weight when she's a head taller and has a lot more curves than the other girls. Brittany's proud of her figure, but it's not the current popular high school look. That would be the short, delicate look, the one Quinn has mastered and Santana has her own take on. Brittany has more of a "Playboy bunny" look, as her last boyfriend had so eloquently put it (he'd only lasted five dates).

"Hey, Brittany," Santana drawls.

Brittany looks up, wary. Santana is her best friend, or Brittany considers Santana her best friend. The blonde isn't quite sure how Santana thinks of her. Santana doesn't really have friends, or hadn't before Brittany had forced her way in. Santana can be a bitch and a little high-maintenance, but she's got a sharp sense of humor and is fiercely loyal.

But the downside to being Santana's friend is that she's got an even better reading of you, and Brittany isn't sure she wants Santana to know something's up. Santana is pushy and while she hasn't said anything about Brittany and Kurt's friendship, Brittany knows if Santana hears what went down she'll do something. Brittany isn't sure what Santana would do, because the other girl is a wild card and even after being her friend for a couple of years Brittany still doesn't have her figured out.

"Do I need to go beat that scarf-loving soprano up?" Santana asks dryly. But her eyes flash and that's how Brittany knows she's serious.

Brittany's touched at the offer; because it means Santana cares (Santana has a heart, contrary to that stupid rumor). But she doesn't want Kurt to get beaten up and she doesn't want Santana to beat someone up on Brittany's behalf. "No, no, it's fine," Brittany says dismissively. "I'm fine."

Santana looks at her, her eyebrows raised disbelievingly. "Oh, really? Then why haven't you and Kurt talked at all today? Usually you spend like half of lunch over there. Did something happen?" Santana's dark eyes watch Brittany for any sign of what might have happened. Brittany's pretty sure Santana already has an idea of what had gone down anyway.

Sometimes Santana can be too perceptive for her own good. Brittany wishes her friend hadn't noticed her odd behavior. "No, I just wanted a change," Brittany says defensively. "I feel bad for missing out on that party, so I wanted to talk to you guys today."

"You're bummed you missed out on a DJ Grabby party?" Santana's voice says that she's not buying Brittany's BS at all. That sucks, because that means Santana won't settle for anything but the truth. Brittany does kinda want to tell someone, get a second opinion on why everything had fallen apart and what, exactly, had she could do to make it better.

"Alright," Brittany relents, leaning closer to admit quickly, "I kissed Kurt."

Santana barely bats an eye, accepting it instantly, "So?"

Brittany chews on her bottom lip, a habit she'd thought she'd broken. "So, he freaked out." Brittany frowns at the memory of it and adds, "It wasn't even a real kiss. Just a peck, you know? It barely lasted five seconds. I didn't think it was that big of deal…" She trails off, because Santana's got a weird, knowing look on her face. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Santana shrugs and takes a dainty sip from her water bottle. "You remember when you kissed me like that?"

"Yeah," Brittany says, still confused. It'd been that kiss that had led to the whole BFFs-with-benefits thing she and Santana had going. Brittany suddenly realizes that maybe she shouldn't be talking to Santana about kissing Kurt. Then again, it hits Brittany that she and Santana haven't hooked up in a while; at least three weeks, not since after Sectionals. Funny, but that's also when Brittany had begun spending more time with Kurt. "But what does kissing you have to do with it?"

"We're friends, Britt," Santana explains, absently twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She's wearing it down, since she's out of her Cheerios uniform too. "But when you kissed me, even though it was a little peck, it made me realize I liked you in a different way too. That's why _I _kissed _you _after." Santana pauses, as if this should all mean something to Brittany.

"Okay, but I'm still lost," Brittany huffs after a long moment. "Kurt didn't kiss me after like you did. And he's gay."

"I thought I was straight," Santana points out, swiping a Snickers bar from Brittany's lunch. She opens it but doesn't eat it yet. She stresses her next words: "But that didn't stop me from kissing you."

"O-kay…" Brittany says slowly, because she just doesn't get what Santana's trying to say.

Santana exhales heavily and elaborates even more, "I thought I was straight, but I'd never tried the other way. So when you kissed me it made me realize that I was bi." Santana shrugs. "I'm okay with it, because it wasn't that much of a surprise to me."

That, if nothing else, makes sense to Brittany. She thinks she's finally getting it. "Oh," she says. "So you think Kurt was uncomfortable because I was treating him like he was straight? Because that isn't true—I treat everyone like that."

Santana sighs heavily, like Brittany's missing the obvious point (which she is, but only because Brittany's not good with this kind of stuff; she's good at flirting and attracting people but this complicated, many-depths business is out of her league). "Britt," Santana says finally. "For once, I think it's the other person who needs to get a clue here, not you. Just stay away from Kurt a bit so he can think things over, okay? He needs some time."

Brittany bites her bottom lip but nods. She's still a little bit confused but she's going to follow Santana's advice. Santana's better at reading people and she's always helped Brittany before. "Okay," Brittany agrees, and gives Santana a tiny smile. That's when Santana takes a huge bite of the Snickers bar and Brittany realizes that her friend has stolen it from her. "Hey, Sana! That's mine," Brittany whines, making futile grabs for the half-eaten candy bar.

Santana nimbly avoids Brittany's efforts to reclaim the Snickers bar, smirking. She shoves the rest of it into her mouth, shrugging. "Too bad," she says with her mouth full, triumphant.

Brittany wrinkles her nose. "Eww, see-food," she complains and they both break into giggles. It feels good and also like they're five years old. But Brittany's needed a good laugh all day, and she's grateful that Santana's hear to give her one.

Even if she is a Snickers bar thief.

* * *

The only class Brittany and Kurt share is math. Recently they'd sat together in the table at the back of the class, with Santana and Finn or Santana and Quinn or just themselves.

Now Kurt's sitting at the back table but Brittany's sitting with Santana, Quinn, and Finn (the last two awkwardly aren't talking to each other, but its way better than it had been when Finn had first found out about the baby). It feels a lot like being divorced, with Brittany and Kurt dividing up their possessions and friends. Brittany's parents are divorced and she remembers how painful the process had been for both of them, and her. This shouldn't be as painful and it isn't, for the most part.

Brittany's able to pretend Kurt doesn't exist. He usually answers a lot of the teacher's questions and the problems on the board, but Brittany never pays attention in math class so it's very easy to zone out. Santana doodles a flower on Quinn's palm with a glittery pink pen and Finn badly pretends he's not sleeping.

Just like in history class, though, Brittany finds herself obediently jotting down the notes the teacher puts on the board. She doesn't understand the notes, not yet, but it's a long way from what she normally does.

She doesn't look at the back of the room. She tries not to pay attention when he answers questions. His voice is so familiar and Brittany realizes she's missed it. And no matter how hard she tries, Brittany is still uncomfortably aware of Kurt's presence. When the end of class bell rings, Brittany lingers, taking as long as possible, so that when she turns to walk out of the class, Kurt is long gone.

There's a forgotten pen sitting at his table, right next to the spot where Brittany had carved a tiny heart into the table top. Brittany barely restrains herself from picking the pen up.

* * *

Brittany takes Santana's advice to heart and gives Kurt space. It's pretty easy, since Brittany had planned on doing that anyway and it seems like Kurt's avoiding her. That hurts a little bit, since Brittany had thought she and Kurt had been pretty close. But he hasn't made any attempts to mend the gape caused by Sunday night so Brittany doesn't approach him. She passes him in the hallway a couple of times. He's always smiling or laughing. He doesn't seem sad or depressed at all.

Brittany doesn't expect him to be, but she had expected _some _emotion from him. She's a horrible person but she had expected Kurt to be a little bit sad about ditching her. The fact that Kurt's continuing on with his life like nothing's changed makes Brittany somewhat mad, which is strange. It takes a lot to make Brittany mad.

So when Glee Club rolls around on Wednesday, Brittany strides in, Santana walking beside her, and goes straight over to where Puck, Mike, and Matt are sitting. She carefully doesn't look around the rest of the room (Kurt's not there though; Brittany doesn't look, she just doesn't hear his voice). Brittany falls into the seat next to Puck and gives him a slow, inviting smile, one that Puck instantly returns. Brittany's too busy aimlessly flirting with Puck to notice when Kurt walks in. She happens to glance to the left and see a familiar turquoise scarf out of the corner of her eye. Brittany tenses up. This is the closest she's been to Kurt, even if he is about seven feet away. Brittany bites her lip and can't concentrate on whatever inane conversation she's having with Puck.

Santana, who's sitting behind Brittany, next to Mike, reaches forward and whispers in her ear, "Act indifferent, Britt. Like you don't care he's here at all. Be the bigger person." Santana squeezes Brittany's shoulder, and that's about as comforting a gesture as Santana gives in public.

Brittany wants to turn around and thank Santana, but then Mr. Schue glides in, followed by a chattering Rachel and a listening Finn, and Glee starts. Mr. Schue rambles on about something. Brittany isn't really paying attention. She crosses her legs and arms, sighing, wishing they could just go straight to singing something and organizing routines. Brittany determinedly stares at the front of the room and doesn't look over to her left, even though there's the tempting diversion of watching as Rachel and Finn stare at each other when they think the other isn't looking. It's the worst kept secret in Glee that Rachel and Finn are going to become a couple; the only two people who don't seem aware of it are Rachel and Finn themselves. But Brittany doesn't look over, because Kurt's also over there, and, like Santana said, she's supposed to be ignoring him.

So when something slides up the back of her calf, Brittany flinches in surprise, startled out of her thinking. She peers down sneakily and is unsurprised to find that the culprit is Puck's sneaker-clad foot. Brittany looks at him under her eyelashes and he gives her an innocent smile, like his foot isn't rubbing the back of her knee. Brittany rolls her eyes and looks back up at Mr. Schue, but she doesn't move her leg away. Puck's foot is just inching up towards her thigh—and Brittany's trying to figure out how he's reaching it without looking, because she hadn't known Puck was that flexible or sneaky—when Mr. Schue claps his hands and says, "Alright, come on up here and grab a music sheet, guys, and we'll get started."

Brittany stands up and walks to the front of the room with the rest of the crowd. Someone's hand squeezes her ass and Brittany figures there's a good chance it's definitely Puck, and, if not, maybe Santana. She doesn't turn around to find out because it's really not that big of deal. Brittany doesn't overreact to simple touches, unlike some people she knows. Grabbing a music sheet, Brittany steps to the side as the rest of the Glee Club swarms over the stack of papers. She looks down at the title of the song at the top of the page: _Iris_, but the Goo Goo Dolls. Brittany recognizes it. She's got a bunch of oldies on her iPod and this is one of her favorites. They're all mostly romantic or lingering songs, anyway, and this one has always appealed to Brittany.

"Okay, guys, let's line up and we'll get started," Mr. Schue announces. "This is just a practice song, for now. We're really going to have to step up our game for Regional's. And you can bet that Vocal Adrenaline has been preparing for weeks. You all are good, but you're going to have to be even better."

Brittany isn't really paying attention to Mr. S's little pep-talked. She's more concerned with the way Puck's standing right behind her, practically plastered to her back. Thankfully his hands aren't wandering—or his feet, since he's standing—but his presence is there, radiating heat. It unnerves Brittany in that familiar way, her stomach swooping a little. The conversation she'd had with Santana on Monday had made her realize that Brittany hasn't kissed or hooked up with anyone in a while. Brittany's a touchy feely kind of person, she likes affections and hugs, and she likes sex. So it's unnerving to have gone without anything so a few weeks. With Puck standing behind her, Brittany's reminded of that.

She looks up when Mr. Schue abruptly claps his hands and her eyes meet Kurt's, who is standing across from her. Kurt's face is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes. Brittany just blankly stares for a moment before she catches herself.

Brittany looks away before Kurt can.

_Could you just not? _

_

* * *

_

The next day, Thursday, Brittany is in the bathroom last period, touching up her makeup. She's passed Kurt a few times in the hallway but hasn't looked or contacted him in any way. (Besides a Facebook bumper sticker that had a witty, scathing comment that had been so _Kurt _Brittany couldn't resist sending it to him.) He hasn't approached her, anyway, and Brittany adjusted to reverting back to spending her lunches with jocks or fellow Cheerios or even some dancers who go to her studio. Brittany knows she's got her hip-hop class with Kurt today, but she's not sure if she's going or not.

"Hey," someone says in front of her.

Looking up from the mirror, Brittany's surprised to see Tina standing there at the other sink. They talk, but usually it's Brittany who initiates it. Brittany smothers her confusion and smiles sincerely at Tina. "Hey, what's up?" she asks, tilting her head to the side, straightening up from where she'd been leaning over the sink. Brittany's wearing her favorite woolen winter dress, a light blue one with a pretty scoop neck. It's short so Brittany had worn leggings along with high heeled boots. It makes her even taller than Tina, even though the other girl is wearing her usual combat boots.

Tina is smiling her customary half-smile. "Nothing, I just," Tina glances around, but no one else is there. "I wanted to talk to you?" Tina's dropped her stuttering and has gotten a little more outgoing. Brittany loves to observe Tina and Artie's conversations, because it's so obvious they both like each other. Neither of them has made a move yet, for reasons Brittany doesn't know, but they're still adorable.

"Okay," Brittany agrees easily, leaning her hip against the sink, holding her eyeliner stick in one hand. "Shoot."

Sucking in a deep breath, Tina nervously says, "Give Kurt some time. He's just really confused right now, but it's not your fault." Tina pauses, thinking about it, and amends, "Well, okay, it sort of _is_ your fault, but not in a bad way. Not really."

Brittany hadn't been expecting Tina to mention Kurt. She appreciates Tina's advice and concern, but she doesn't understand what the other girl is trying to say. Just like Santana, she's not making any sense to Brittany whatsoever.

* * *

Brittany goes early to her hip-hop dance class.

She wears her favorite green cheetah print leotard under hot pink booty-shorts, the outfit Kurt had ridiculed her for wearing once because he'd claimed it clashed. She braids her bangs into her ponytail while she kills time waiting for the studio room to clear and her class to start. She's the first in. She greets her classmates and Jorge as they enter.

Kurt doesn't come.

* * *

Friday, Glee Club again, and Brittany gets in a little late, slipping through the door just as the bell rings. She gives Mr. Schue a sheepish grin in apology and sits down in the empty seat Santana had saved her. Brittany has to walk past Kurt and she avoids looking at him. She sits in her seat and realizes Puck's on her left, Santana's on her right, and Kurt's right in front of her. She's boxed in. Brittany swallows nervously and wishes for Glee to be over.

Puck's foot reacquaints itself with Brittany's calf once again. This time, though, there's no need to get up and grab music sheets, so there's nothing stopping Puck when he slips his foot up to her thigh. Brittany should probably cross her legs and shift them to the right, away from Puck, but she doesn't. She hasn't gotten attention from a guy in what feels like forever, even if Robbie Miller had whistled at her in the hallway. Brittany's wearing a skirt and tights today, though they're nowhere near as geeky looking as Rachel's.

Santana and her whisper for the first half of Glee Club, in which Finn and Rachel are called up to the front to sing some mushy song. They've only got eyes for each other and the tension between them is bound to snap sometime soon. Brittany's telling Santana that she bets Rachel owns maybe two pairs of pants, one jeans and the other some ghastly fabric, like polyester. "—she's got good legs though," Brittany says, peering at Rachel, "I get why she only wears skirts."

Santana nods, a little consumed by the text she's just gotten from her current boy toy.

Puck, however, hears Brittany and that's when he replaces his foot with his hand, big and warm on her knee. He leans forward to whisper loudly in Brittany's ear, "You've got hotter legs." His breath tickles Brittany's ear and neck and she shivers a bit. Puck smirks and leans back, but keeps his hand on Brittany's knee, slowly, slowly sliding up.

Mr. Schue is busy talking to Rachel and Finn up front. Quinn is talking to Artie and Mercedes. Mike and Tina are defending their SAT scores, which are less than Matt's, who claims to have beaten the 'Asian curve'. Santana is texting and Puck's hand is sliding and Brittany's just trying to figure out what's going on.

Kurt suddenly whips around in his seat, glaring. Brittany flinches but his glare is all for Puck, whose hand freezes, about halfway up Brittany's thigh. "Could you maybe stop molesting Brittany?" Kurt asks scathingly. Brittany blinks and Santana looks up from her text, because it sounds and seems like Kurt is…defending Brittany. Kurt's mouth is an angry, tight line as he continues to stare at Puck, not even intimidated by the guy who a few months ago had thrown him into dumpsters every morning.

Puck meets Kurt's glare and doesn't move his hand from Brittany's thigh. He spreads his fingers out, the tips of his fingers reaching around her thigh. His hand isn't high enough too be indecent, but it's close enough to be uncomfortably close, maybe a couple of inches away from earning him a slap. Because Brittany's hooked up with Puck before, and she counts him as a kinda-friend and fellow Glee member; but she doesn't like him near enough to let him casually grope her during Glee, no matter how desperate for touch she is. It's only because she hasn't had any attention in a while and Puck's kept it pretty low-key that she's let him get this far.

"And how would you know Brittany's not interested?" Puck challenges Kurt. "I mean, you've got no experience with girls to go by." Kurt can't fight that, but he opens his mouth anyway. Puck cuts him off by adding with his eyebrows raised, "I thought you two weren't friends anymore, anyway, Hummel. Why so concerned?"

That's what Brittany wants to know. She looks at Kurt out of the corner of her eyes, waiting. She's surprised when Kurt turns to her, anger fading and replaced by—regret? He meets her eyes and says quietly, "Britt, I'm sorry I freaked on you. There's no excuse. And I'm sorry for being a ghost the past week." He takes a deep breath, apparently steeling himself, braces his shoulders and asks, "Do you think you could forgive me?"

And if the nickname hadn't melted Brittany, the apology and plea definitely would have. She beams at Kurt immediately, a weight she hadn't even known was there lifting off her chest. She scoots forward in her seat, unintentionally but thankfully dislodging Puck's had in the process, and throws her arms around Kurt. "Of course I do," she whispers into his ear, tightening her arms around Kurt. She's grinning like a loon but she's doesn't care. She's got Kurt back! This weird not-friend-not-noticing each other thing is in the past and Brittany's got one of her best friends back.

Then Brittany realizes she's hugging Kurt, and it was physical affection that had gotten her into this whole mess. "Oops, sorry," she says, backtracking, drawing her hands away.

But Kurt's arms wind their way around Brittany, bringing her forward again. Kurt's face is hovering right in front of her and he's smiling his sincere, happy smile. It feels like decades since Brittany's seen it. "Don't be," he tells her, and Brittany hadn't thought it was possible to be this happy.

The rest of Glee Club passes in a happy blur. Brittany switches seats with Mercedes, who gives her a knowing smile that Brittany doesn't really understand, but doesn't waste time decoding. Brittany sits next to Kurt and sings louder than she ever has, feeling refreshed. Every time she glances to the side, Kurt's there to meet her gaze and exchange her smile. Brittany feels complete in a strange way, like she's gotten back the matching shoe she'd left at a friend's house. Brittany knows there are better analogies, but she likes that one. At the end of Glee Mr. Schue lets them all pick a song and everyone starts shouting out random songs (Puck wants "The Bad Touch", because he's not-so-secretly as mature as a sixth grader; Rachel's all for some Celine Dion song; Finn tries to get them all in on "Carry On Wayward Son"; Mercedes just sits there rolling her eyes).

Brittany and Kurt look at each other and shout out "'Come What May'!" at the same time. They both share a love for _Moulin Rouge_ and Ewan McGregor. Combined they're louder than anyone and that's what they end up singing. Kurt sings loudly while the rest of the guys mumble and sulk. The girls get into it, since they've all seen it. Brittany's not that great of a singer but she knows this song, and so does Kurt, and she feels like their voices soar above the rest—even if Rachel Berry, who knows every song in existence, is belting it out like she's Nicole Kidman. Brittany and Kurt look at each other while they sing and make exaggerated romantic faces so that they're singing as much as laughing.

It's the best Glee Club ever, for Brittany.

At the end she and Santana grab their purses and Kurt walks with them out to the parking lot. They talk about the most recent school gossip and whether Gabby Collins actually does use a push-up bra or if she really did get plastic surgery. Suddenly, though, Brittany's at her car, with Santana already opening the door to claim shotgun. They're going over to Brittany's house to prep for Matt's party later on. Brittany looks at Kurt and he looks at her.

They've just begun catching up on what they'd missed the past few days. Brittany knows that they're friends and that's not going to chance in a night, but she isn't quite willing to give up her time with Kurt yet.

So she smiles hesitatingly at him and asks, "Wanna come to Matt's party?"

Kurt pretends to consider for a full minute until Brittany, giggling, slaps his shoulder lightly. Then Kurt grins, rolling his eyes a little, and says, "Of course. Teenagers, bad beer, and even worse dancing? I'm so there." He's joking around, he's going, but Brittany's still slightly insecure. She isn't going to forget this week of silence so easily.

Grinning uncertainly, she says, "I'll see you there?" It ends up coming out more like a question, and Brittany hates acting so typical, so blonde, but she can't help it.

It's worth it though, because Kurt darts in to press a kiss to her cheek as he reassures her, "I'll stick to your side until you get sick of me." He then says goodbye and rushes off to his car, muttering something about carpool and obnoxious freshmen.

Brittany's grin doesn't fade the whole way home, even though there's the dilemma of what to wear waiting for her and Santana keeps bitching about this girl and a toothbrush and something else.

* * *

_end._


End file.
